


under his eye

by peterspet



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Handmaid's Tale Fusion, Commander!Steve, Dystopia, F/M, Handmaidens, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Patriarchy, Sexism, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterspet/pseuds/peterspet
Summary: In which you try keeping a deadly secret from your Commander.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 119





	under his eye

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @harryspet

“If you want to make the perfect layered cake, you have to make sure each layer is even,” You nodded intently as you listened to Peggy, “Now, take each of these pans and make sure there are 750 grams of cake batter in each one.”

You immediately got to work, knowing Peggy wouldn’t like it if you asked too many questions. You could tell that she much preferred when you kept quiet and figured things out yourself rather than ask her a million questions. You much preferred her baking lessons over any other so you were often on your best behavior within the kitchen. 

You readjusted your apron, tightening it around your light-blue shift dress. You were already covered in ingredients, Peggy having just explained to you the complex way she liked to mix all her ingredients. You couldn’t quite remember the order of the dry and wet ingredients. 

On the kitchen island, you scooped cake batter into three pans and took the time to weigh each one. The Rogers’ kitchen was probably the most amazing in the entire neighborhood. It was an old, industrial style home with lots of antique furnishing though it still managed to be modern at the same time. 

“I’m done, ma’am,” You announced, turning towards her. She looked over her shoulder at you.

“Don’t forget to smooth out the batter with a spatula, make sure it fills all the corners so there are no air pockets-”

“I did, ma’am,” You tried to keep your voice small as you interrupted her, “Should I pop these into the oven?”

You heard her sigh as she turned her head away, “Fine.”

Hoping you hadn’t stepped on her toes again, you moved silently as you finished the task. You knew that Peggy disliked you but there wasn’t much you could do about it. If you were a wife, you probably wouldn’t want two other women living underneath your roof. Wanda, as their handmaid, and with you as their current mentee, she must be miserable. Still, you’d like to think that you’d be much nicer than her. 

When you began to remove your apron, she snapped her head towards you, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“You … Y-You said I could do some knitting out by the lake after my chores ..”

“Take Steve his lunch before you go,” She handed you a plate where she had made his sandwich exactly as he preferred it. She always wrote him a small note on a little card as well and most days you were tempted to flip it over and attempt to read it. Being born after Gilead was formed, you weren’t supposed to know how to read or write which made you envious of women like her, “He should be in his study.”

Much too eager to be on your way outside, you hurriedly made your way out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward the study room. You knocked lightly on the door, saying a small, “Commander Rogers?”

“Come in, please,” You heard through the door and, a bit anxiously, you opened one of the oak doors. You found him sitting behind his desk, his eyes fixed on papers strewn about on his desk. It was rare that you saw him without his dark jacket on and the sight of him in just a white dress shirt, reminded you of the muscles that were often hidden beneath his clothing. He still looked extremely put together like usual and the smell of clean laundry always emanated from him. 

The dark walls of books always overwhelmed you and you often found your eyes wandering whenever you were inside the room, “Y/N?” You hadn’t realized you’d paused in the middle of the room until you heard his voice. 

“Oh, my apologies,” You walked over to his desk, setting down the plate, “Have you read all of these books, Sir?”

He set down his pen and you watched as a small smile tugged at the older man’s lips, “Not all, no but most of them. Why do you ask?”

You shook your head, knowing that it was a part of yourself that you’d have to keep hidden, “No reason, just curious. I’ll leave you to your work-”

“Going to meet that Peter fellow?” Your heart stopped at his words though he seemed to have no reaction at all. 

Your mouth parted but words didn’t escape it, “I … I… how did you know?”

“You can’t keep secrets from me, angel. I have my sources.”

“It was Wanda, wasn’t it?” You frowned, your body slumping a bit, “That babbling-”

Steve's eyes narrowed at you and you quickly snapped your lips together, “I don’t mind you going to meet some boy. I trust that you won’t do anything that God would be ashamed of. I hope you certainly wouldn’t do something that would get you sent The Colonies.”

You’d never known what they truly look like but The Colonies had haunted your nightmares since you were a small girl. It was a toxic wasteland that gender traitors and the rest of the “unwomen” were sent to die. 

“Of course not, Sir,” You said immediately, “I know the Lord is always watching. Besides, he’s just my friend.” You hid the feeling of wanting to smile behind a bored, thin-lipped grin. 

Steve sat back in his chair, looking you up and down, “I’ll pretend that’s true and that you’re not already planning your wedding day … Be back soon to help with dinner. I have a prayer I want to read to you all beforehand. Under his eye,” He gestured for you to leave. 

You bowed your head slightly as you turned to leave, hoping Steve was only joking about the “you can’t keep secrets from me” part. As a woman in Gilead, you had much to lose. 

+

You loved the smell of the evergreen trees and the cool air that swept across the water and rustled the leaves. It was a privilege, Peggy always told you, to roam about so freely without the company of a man. No matter how much you disliked her condescending tone, you knew she was right. Handmaids weren’t allowed to leave the home without the company of a guard and Peggy never went anywhere without a pack of wives following her. 

You made it a point to enjoy your time out here, coming down by the lake whenever you got a chance. You were out here, sitting by the water when you first met Peter. You never encountered many young men as your schools were separated and it was considered improper to befriend a male you weren’t related or engaged to. 

His family lives on the other side of the lake and he came across you on one of his fishing trips. You wondered why you’d never had dinner with his family in the five months you lived in the Rogers home but you soon found that Peggy and May weren’t the closest of friends. In fact, they sort of hated each other. 

“Close your eyes,” You cocked your head to the side, trying to read his expression. He was still dressed in his militant uniform, all black, and a weapon on his waist. It seemed like he was trying to hold in his excitement, his hands held behind his back, as he looked at you with his usual boyish charm, “C’mon, it’s a surprise.”  
“I don’t like surprises, really,” Despite your words, you still closed your eyes. 

“Well, you’ll like this one,” It grew quiet around you, and you only heard the sound of crushing leaves beneath his feet as he moved behind you. You hugged your sweater tighter to you as you felt something touch your neck. You felt something small rest above your chest as you heard a small snap behind you, “There, open your eyes.”

Your fingers played with the small pendant as your eyes blinked open. Your mouth parted in surprise as you realized it was a small diamond that was now hanging around your neck, “Peter, oh my-” You turned around quickly to face him. 

“In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array.”

You smiled at his words, “It’s very beautiful as well as modest. Thank you so much,” You opened your arms to hug him and he wrapped his arms around you. You’d never admit to anyone, not even each other, but you two often touched longer than you were meant to be.

You liked taking in his scent, feeling his strong arms around you, but always had to force yourself to snap out of it. One day, you could call him your husband, and two of you could hug all day long if you wanted. When you pulled away, your cheeks were warm with embarrassment, “And to think I only brought you snickerdoodles.”

“Your presence is payment enough,” Peter gestured for you to sit and you took a seat on the picnic blanket you bought. Peter followed suit, “But the snickerdoodles are a pretty sweet bonus. Another reason I hope to call you mine one day since May is a terrible baker.”

You giggled at his words, opening up your picnic basket to present the batch of cookies you’d made, “Have you … brought me something else today …?” You weren’t sure why it made you nervous to ask, you and Peter had done this a thousand times before. 

Peter gave you a knowing look and pulled out the book from behind his coat jacket. You remembered the first time you asked him to read to you and how he almost refused to speak to you ever again after finding out what kind of books you were interested in. Now, he knew it made you happy and would do it despite the trouble he could get in. 

“What’s this one called?” You asked, now being the one trying to hide their excitement. 

“The Outsiders,” You were already intrigued, getting comfortable on the blanket, the trees in the background whistling in the breeze. You liked to close your eyes when you listened and you pictured the world being built by those words. 

“... We’re poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I reckon we’re wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society the next. Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars and hold up has stations and have a gang fight once in a while…”

You often thought Peter liked these kinds of stories too. He could imagine the fantasy world and probably judge the characters for how they think. You, on the other hand, knew these stories were real. Real people who used to live in the world wrote them and each story taught you about how the world used to be. 

“Peter?” You suddenly asked in the middle of him reading. 

“Yeah?” He looked up, seemingly enjoying the story as well. 

“Can I … Can I take the book home with me? I promise I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

Peter instantly started shaking his head, “No, are you crazy? If you get caught then-”

“I have a secret place beneath one of the floorboards where I … hide some of the things my mother gave to me. No one has found it, not even the Marthas so it’ll be safe. Besides, no one comes in my room anyways!”

“Why do you want to keep it, Y/N?”

You weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. You knew Peter would disagree with you wanting to read it yourself, “I just want to hold it …Commander Rogers keeps a big collection and I envy him.”

“A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” He looked away as he quoted the bible. 

“The Lord says not to be envious of wrongdoers. Commander Rogers is one of the most upstanding men that I know. Don’t you think it's good that I look up to him?”

Peter thought for a moment, “Just for one night.”  
You clapped excitedly, “Thank you, Peter.”

+

The next day, you and Peter couldn’t meet you in your usual spot because it had been pouring down since the early morning. The house Martha, maid and housekeeper, was cooking today and you’d finish all your chores. This left you with time to delve further into your latest novel. 

When you knew Commander Rogers was at work and Peggy was spending the day visiting a friend, you pulled the book from your hiding space. You also grabbed a flashlight and a pillow before walking over to your small closet. 

You’d spend the next two hours at the bottom of the closet, flipping through the pages of the book, “Suh-tuh-ah-yuh … suh-tuh-ah-yuh … Stuh … ay … Stay. Stay. Guh-oh-luh-duh … Go-dul… God? Gold? Stay god. No, stay gold.” You yawned, the dim light in the closet starting to tire you. 

You took a deep breath, realizing you didn’t understand much that was happening in the book. You couldn’t read most of the words which meant you couldn’t make sense of most of the sentences. 

You turned your flashlight away and closed your eyes only for a second. Well, what was meant to be a second. You didn’t know that when you opened your eyes it would be three hours later, “Y/N,” Your eyes snapped open at the sound of your name being called and heavy creaking of the floorboards. You shot up from where you were sitting, effectively hitting your head on the shelf above. You mentally cursed, trying to focus on where you were going to put the book. 

“Y/N, why are you in the closet?” Your eyes widened, realizing that the person behind the soft knock on the closet door was Commander Rogers. 

“O-One second, please!” You lifted your skirt, deciding to tuck the book between your pantyhose and your stomach. 

You were smoothing down your dress when the closet opened, Mr. Rogers ignoring your request. You held your hand in front of you, hoping your loose-fitting dress wouldn’t show the imprint of the book, “Good evening, Sir,” You smiled wide, your cheeks warm with embarrassment, “How was work?”

He was clad in a long black coat, the color marked the Sons of Jacob who were the leaders of Gilead. The wives were represented by blue, the Marthas with gray, and The Handmaids with red. His hair was slicked back and his facial hair was perfectly groomed. His eyebrow raised as he looked at you and he stepped aside, gesturing for you to step outside. 

Your heart pounding, you stepped out of the closet, “Do you often spend long amounts of time in the closet?”

You looked up at him, feeling the full effects of his strong presence, “Only when I fall asleep … it’s just the way I like to pray. The suffocating space makes me feel … closer to God.” 

It surprised you when his look turned to amusement, “You know that it’s wrong to use the Lord as an excuse when you’re lying.”

“I … I’m not.”

Steve sighed, “This is your choice to come clean, Y/N. You can tell me. I’m usually lenient, you know that.”

Sure, maybe he was lenient but it was also true that you’d never gotten in trouble before. 

He looked down and you could tell he noticed how your hand was frozen in place, “I was praying, Sir.”

The look on his face quickly fell, “Lift up your dress.”

You paused, your heart seeming to stop, “W-What?”

“Show me what you're hiding,” He spoke sternly, “Go on.”

You were still frozen, and you tried to move your hand but you just couldn’t, “I can’t … please don’t make me.” You begged, your voice barely a whisper. 

He waited only a moment longer before stepping forward. He leaned down, grabbing the sides of your dress, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You were embarrassed and terrified all in one as you felt his fingers graze over your stomach. When he pulled the book away from you, you fell to your knees.

“Please forgive me, Sir,” You rushed out, “I shouldn’t have lied. I-I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Sir, please-”

“The Outsiders,” Steve read, looking down at you before glancing back at the book, “How did you get your hands on a banned book?”

You expected him to sound angry, to be fuming, and to already have enforcers on the phone, arranging to have you arrested. Still, you didn’t risk raising your head, “Sir, please-”

“It was Peter, wasn’t it?”

“I made him, Sir. He told me I shouldn’t but I didn’t listen,” Tears were streaming down your cheeks now and you gripped the floor tightly, trying to control your shaking hands. 

You flinched when you felt a hand on your back. Steve kneeled down in front of you, “Look at me,” He ordered and, still shaking, you forced yourself to look at him. There was no anger there, only concern, “Who taught you to read, angel?”

“My …. My mother. She taught me some things before … before they took her away.”

“Your mother, the rebel Handmaiden,” Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, “You must be more like her than you think.”

You shook your head furiously, “I’m not, I swear. I want to be a good woman. I just … I shouldn’t have asked Peter to-”

“I don’t care that you want to read, angel. I love books too much to purposefully deny someone else of them,” Steve told you, “But you did lie to me.”

You were a bit flabbergasted by his words, “I’ll never lie again.” Steve grabbed your head in his hand, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. 

“I know you won’t but you still must be punished,” You nodded, understanding. He held the book in his other hand, “I’ll keep this for now. Now, stand up and lean on your bed.”

Knowing what was to come, you slowly got up off the ground. You made your way over to your small, twin bed and placed your hands down on the mattress. Your tears were starting to dry but you knew that wouldn’t be for long. Even as you heard him remove his belt, you felt relieved. Relieved that you weren’t being sent to the colonies. 

Steve lifted your dress again, this time, pulling your pantyhose and panties down. Even when the belt made its first impact against your skin. Even when you tightly gripped your sheets and cried out in pain, you were relieved.   
He left you off with only five but, by the last one, your tears had begun again. You felt him press a hand to your bare bottom and you flinched at the stinging pain. His hand hovered much longer than you expected.“Thank me,” He said to your surprise. 

“T-Thank you,” You stuttered, standing up to lift your clothes. You felt his eyes burning holes into your skin, “Commander Rogers.”

He cleared his throat, “Tomorrow when my wife is away, I want to see you in my office.”

+

You didn’t come downstairs for dinner that night and you knew Steve had made up some excuse because Peggy didn’t come bother you later. The next day, you helped the Martha with breakfast and served it as usual. Your eyes didn’t meet Steve’s for the entire breakfast nor did you pay attention to Peggy’s daily ramblings. She was much nicer to you when Steve was around, often mentioning how well prepared you were to be a wife now and how far you’d come just in a few months. 

After yesterday, those words didn’t feel true anymore. You felt you’d lost all of your progress after such an embarrassing ordeal yesterday. You weren’t even sure when you’d be able to face Peter, having to tell him how you were punished like a child. 

That afternoon, the Martha came to your room to tell you that Steve was requesting your presence. 

Thank me. 

His words from yesterday echoed in your head and you wondered what exactly had shifted within him yesterday. You walked inside cautiously, finding him in his usual place behind his desk, “Blessed be the fruit,” You greeted him. 

“May the Lord open,” He responded back like instinct, “Come here, angel.”

You approached his desk, your hands folded before you. When you stopped, he said, “No, come around here,” He gestured his hand. 

You perked up, realizing what he meant, before you walked around the large oak desk. He grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you closer, gently. He moved some things around on his desk before pulling out a notebook, “Guess what these are,” He told you, gesturing to the words that rested on each line, carefully and beautifully written.   
The first word started with an p and a r. Those were always hard to pronounce. 

“Uhm … words?”

“Site words,” Steve corrected, looking up at you with light in his eyes, “We’re going to practice together.”

You grabbed a hold of his hand, the excitement hitting you all at once, “You’re serious? You’ll help me with my reading?”

Steve nodded, “But this stays between us, I’d lose my job if anyone found out.”

“Of course,” You agreed, “I can’t believe … thank you!” You squeezed his hand and awkward silence settled over you two for a moment. Steve squeezed your hand back, his thumb rubbing over your palm. 

“Sit,” He told you, patting his right leg. 

“Oh,” You hesitated, but only for a moment, “O-Okay.”

Your heart raced a bit, your mind wondering why he suggested it but also not wanting to disobey him. You didn’t want another situation like yesterday. His arm wrapped around your back and he pulled you closer to him, scooting closer to the desk. 

Your eyes tried to focus on the notebook and not his hand on your waist, “Try reading the first word.”

P-R-E-T-T-Y. 

“Puh-rrr-eh-tuh… pur… purt …”

“Pretty,” Steve added, “Sometimes y acts like a vowel. 

“Pretty,” You said allowed, reading the work again, “Pretty.”

“Keep going,” Steve said. 

G-I-V-E.

“Guh-ih-vuh-eh … Givuh … Give.”

“Good.”

C-O-L-O-R.

“Cuh-oh-luh-oh-ruh … Color?” You felt his other hand on your left thigh. You paused when you felt his hand beneath your leg, lifting it over his other thigh. He grabbed your waist, pulling you further into him so that your bottom was now right over his crotch, “Commander?”

“You’re doing good, angel,” He spoke gruftly, still stroking your thigh, “Keep going.”

You continued down the list of words and, for each one you couldn’t pronounce, Steve helped you out. You’d almost tuned out his stroking of your body until you felt something hard poking at your bottom. He’d slowly lifted your dress up and now his hands were traveling between your legs. 

“Commander ... “ You were scared to say no, to tell him stop, “This feels strange.”

You weren’t sure he was even listening to you anymore as his fingers traveled between your stomach and your white underwear, “This is a reward, angel. I’m going to reward you for trying so hard with your studies,” As his rough fingers grazed your sex, you felt a jolt like electricity through your body. As you tried to move away, he only held you tightly, starting to move his hands in circles. With each stroke, he teased your sensitive bulb, an area that you’d never touched for your entire life, “Shush, it’s okay. I’m you Commander, trust me, angel.”

He was a man of God. A Son of Jacob. He’d never lead you astray, right?

You breathed heavily, baffled at how good it felt. Much to your own surprise, a moan escaped your lips, “I’m sorry,” You quickly apologized, shutting your mouth. 

“Don’t apologize,” Steve assured you, “And don’t hold your tongue.”

You leaned back against him, and his fingers began to stroke you faster. It wasn’t long before you felt your hips bucking, an intense warmth spreading through your body, causing you to cry out in pleasure. When he finally let you be, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Steve tucked his head into your neck, taking in your scent, “Good girl,” He told you, “You have much to learn.”


End file.
